The Weight Of A Mountain
by Seriously Facetious
Summary: In the days before the Battle of the Five Armies, Fili grapples with his understanding of what it means to be a prince, a brother, and a lover. AN: Story begins the night before Durin's Day.
1. Contemplation on the Docks

**So this turned out way longer than anticipated. However, you, dear reader, should not be turned away by the length. It's quite good; although, I am admittedly biased. Anyway, the concept came about because not much is touched upon Fili's feelings about being Thorin's heir, and what that means for him. It was meant to be a short one-shot but spiraled from there as things oft do. I have something of a plan for this but we'll see. If you like it/want to see more, please let me know. On another note, for non-horse savvy people, filly is the term for a young female horse. Why point that out? Wouldn't want you to miss out later. Enjoy. **

Laketown had not thrown a party such as this one in the history of its existence. The dwarves had not feasted so well since Bilbo's impromptu party nor had they had the chance to enjoy a good ale. And there was plenty of ale, as well as other sorts of drink that brought out the courage in even the most timid of creatures. There was singing and laughter, cheering and boasts, as if tomorrow would not bring about the potential desolation of them all. The promise of gold and the drinking of ale could fog even the most dependable of minds.

However, Fili was not one of those minds. Admittedly, he wished he could be as carefree as the other partygoers. Even his uncle seemed to be truly enjoying himself. There had been many toasts to the honor of Thorin Oakenshield that night from both dwarf and men alike. Music played and dancing commenced as the night grew darker in parallel with Fili's mood. Troubled thoughts refused to be shaken no matter how hard he tried to do so.

His brother was lying to him, to all of them. Fili could see Kili's pain as clear as day. The wound from the orc's arrow had done more damage than his younger brother was letting on, and it worried Fili to no end. Fili had promised their mother that he'd make sure no harm befell his brother. He'd tried to talk to Kili, but Kili denied any serious injury. The dwarf could be as stubborn as their uncle at times, and Fili feared it would get Kili killed. He feared it might be killing him now.

Fili sighed into his ale and rubbed at his face. What could he do? Force Kili into admitting he was hurt? Pin him down and have Oin examine the wound? It didn't sound like a terrible plan. Admittedly, Kili had done a fair job of fooling the others into thinking he was fine, despite falling at the armory. Thorin wasn't. Fili could see that in the way their uncle occasionally glanced at his young nephew. However, the others did not seem to notice Kili's struggling. He hid it well, but Fili had noticed how Kili had not moved from his seat since coming to the feast. Normally, he'd be dancing on tables by now.

And then there was the dragon. He had not found it easy to push away the fear of Smaug. It had felt unreal before, but now they were within the shadow of the mountain. What if they woke the dragon? What if they caused this town's destruction? The people of Laketown were a goodly sort. He did not want to be apart of their demise.

Everything he had ever hoped and dreamed of rested on tomorrow. He was Thorin's heir. As a youth, although some of his kinsfolk still considered him as such but he no longer did, he had dreamed of Erebor. He dreamed of being king one day. It had seemed like a silly dream, a child's dream, but now…now it did not seem so foolish.

The world beyond the Blue Mountains had not been what he'd thought. He had never truly known fear or hunger or discomfort. All of those things he had experienced, truly for the first time, since joining his uncle's quest – his quest, for it was his kingdom too.

His reflection stared back at him from the surface of the ale. What if they failed? If he was not killed in that failure, what left was there for him to pursue? If his dream died before he did, what then? What if they didn't fail? Would he truly become King Under the Mountain? Would he be a good king? Fili had never thought about the true meaning of being Thorin's heir. Like everything else about Erebor and the dragon, it had not seemed real.

And the prophecy. Bard had spoken of a prophecy that claimed Thorin's return would lead to the utter destruction of Laketown and it's people. No one seemed to believe in it, but that did not make it false. He glanced up from his drink to look at the celebration but all he could think about was how tomorrow this building and everyone in it could be reduced to ash. The paled face of his brother stood out in particular.

Quite suddenly, the room felt hot and suffocating. He needed air. He needed to be anywhere but here. Without ceremony, Fili rose from the table and excused himself to find the nearest door. Hopefully, if any of his comrades noticed, they'd just think he'd wandered off to relieve himself.

His mind still raced, but at least the cool night air calmed him somewhat. It was a tranquil night. Although he wandered without direction, Fili still wandered carefully along the docks that connected the town's buildings. The last thing he needed was to fall into the water.

He wandered until he could wander no more and found himself at the edge of a dock that faced the mountain. Cast only in moonlight and shadows, it seemed both a terrible and beautiful thing. His destiny rested within that mountain. He could feel it with every fiber of his being.

"Are you lost?" A voice from behind startled him so badly he near lurched off the dock. Small but strong hands caught the back of his shirt and yanked him back from the edge. Not enough to send them toppling, but enough for him to place both feet back on the docks.

After regaining his balance, he spun around to face the speaker, who'd backed up a considerable distance by then.

The woman had both her hands up, palms out, in a position of defense and apology. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought perhaps…you were lost since you've been standing here for some time now…and you're quite far from the party…"

Fili shook his head, "no, it was my fault. My mind was elsewhere. Thank you, for pulling me back." He glanced around, actually looking at his surroundings since having walked this way. "I suppose I am lost, now that you mention it."

"You're lucky you didn't fall in to the water earlier. Would you like me to walk you back to your kinsfolk?"

He found the way she phrased the question odd before it dawned on him she must think he'd drunkenly stumbled here and by mere luck hadn't fallen in the lake. "Oh, I left on purpose. I needed to clear my head. Tomorrow will be a…" He searched for the right way to describe the tomorrow that was to come so instead just let the sentence trail into nothing. "I'm not drunk. I realize that is something someone who's been drinking would say, but I swear I'm not."

To prove his point he touched a finger to his nose. "See? Granted, my brother says that's cheating since my nose is so long, easier to touch he says, but…I don't think so…right." Why was he rambling about his nose? Maybe he was drunk. He hadn't anything to drink though. It had to be the stress. The darkness of night hid the color rising to his cheeks and for that he was grateful.

The woman pulled her shawl tighter across her shoulders to keep a breeze from stealing it. Upon further inspection, he realized she was not in much more than a night shift. She was even barefoot. His gaze moved up above her to an open window with embroidered curtains. A sudden realization dawned on him in that moment. "I've been standing outside your bedroom window. I hope I did not make you feel threatened," He spoke with genuine sincerity. "Your husband must be at the party or else I'd be in trouble." Fili offered up a joke with a short laugh.

"You needn't worry, he's been dead for years."

Fili's jaw dropped slightly but no sound came out. He could not have made a bigger fool of himself if he tried. "I'm...so…deeply sorry…that was meant as a…I don't know…I'm not normally this much of a fool but…"

"Please stop apologizing, if he was still alive, you would have been right, and like I said, it's been years and was of natural causes. He was much older. I didn't feel threatened either; I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You can stay here as long as you like, master dwarf. It is a good place to think."

"Thank you…" He sighed the words heavily, offering her now a tired smile.

She tilted her head, as if to study him better and the motion reminded him of a curious bird. There was a short silence before she took a few steps closer to close the distance between them. "Are you all right?" Her tone was soft, undemanding yet somehow unrelenting in its inquisition. It was not the sort of tone one could easily pass a lie in response.

The question caught him off guard. He'd expected her to return home. Why should she care about his mental state? Fili wanted to lie. More importantly, he wanted the lie to be true. The word 'yes' was on the tip of his tongue. Just one little word should not be so hard to say, especially not to a stranger.

He almost had it, almost lied, but then he made the mistake of looking her in the eyes. It was not the color nor the shape nor the long lashes that surrounded them that caused his stomach to clench. It was something else, something he could not describe that lurked within the grey eyes that took a hold of him.

"No…I'm not all right…" He barely murmured the words, and to his ears, it did not even sound like his voice. Those were not the words a dwarf, least of all a dwarf prince, should ever utter. Those were not brave words. He felt ashamed and looked away. Only when she placed a hand gently on his arm did he look back at her.

"Sit with me a while then. Tell me what troubles you."

"It is late, you must be tired."

She responded to him by easing herself down onto the edge of the dock, dangling her feet off the edge. "I cannot sleep. Like you said, tomorrow will be a…" She even trailed off as he did, glancing over her shoulder and patting the dock next to her.

In the same way he could not lie to her, he could not deny her, and so he carefully took a seat next to her. However, he did not sit quite so close to the edge as she did but no comment was made on the matter.

"My name is Fryg, and yours?"

"Fili," He dipped his head in her direction, "at your service."

"Hmm…you don't look much like a Filly, but I'm sure you still make a good mount."

"It's actually Fee-li…the accent…wait…" He stared at her slightly wide-eyed, having not expected such an innuendo from such a demure looking woman.

She did not look at him, simply stared off at the mountain but a cheeky grin played across her lips.

He chuckled, "do you ride often, Fryg? Laketown does not seem the place for it."

"It has been a long while since I've ridden," She quipped back, the cheeky grin growing even cheekier then sobering somewhat as Fryg tried to reign in the conversation, "but this isn't about my riding habits. This is about you."

"That is a shame," Given the topic at hand, he couldn't truly blame himself for looking at her more closely than before. She looked to be in her late twenties, early thirties, but he was a poor judge of age when it came to menfolk. He'd not make the mistake of asking her age. He would not be that big of a fool. As with the mountain, the moon cast her face in shadows and light. However, the shadows could not entirely hide the delicacy of her features from him. "I think I'd prefer to keep talking about you. Why were not at the celebration?"

"How do you know I was not there earlier?"

"I would have noticed you."

It was her turn to flush with embarrassment and look away, "ah…well…that is kind…" She cleared her throat, "I was with family. We did not go."

"It seemed as if all the town was there."

"I'm sure most were, we never have reason to celebrate."

"But not your family?"

"Bard was married to my sister. My nieces and nephew are dear to me. Given his reaction today upon discovering your leader is Thorin Oakenshield, I think you can understand why we did not attend the celebration. I understand his fears. They are mine as well."

Fili remembered the conversation when they were first convincing Bard to smuggle them into Laketown. His wife had been lovely he said. Past tense. Fryg had said 'was married'. Past tense. He did not need to ask further questions about Bard's wife.

"Those fears are my fears too." The time for jokes and innuendos had long since passed. "I'm afraid of what tomorrow will bring not only for us but also for Laketown. I do not want your people to suffer for our quest but…I have dreamt of this day for as long as I can remember."

"Of finding the lost gold?"

He shook his head, "it is about so much more than the gold. Thorin is King Under the Mountain. That mountain," He gestured at the Lonely Mountain in the distance. "That is my people's home. This quest is about going home. It is about restoring what was lost so long ago. We have lived in exile since the dragon stole our mountain. It is time to go home. My people, Durin's Folk, deserve so much better than a life in exile, and I intend to help bring them home or die trying. I just wish we didn't have to risk your home to do so." He spoke with an intense passion that caused him near to shake.

"I understand. Stories are told of the glory of Dale. What was lost to us. We have forgotten much of who we were in those times. If you win back your home, so do those of us descended from the men of Dale. We win back our identity as your people will win back theirs so I cannot blame you for your quest. I wish to return home too."

"But if we wake the dragon and fail…"

"He will wake eventually. He always does, and we always suffer. Perhaps it is time to end it all, one way or another."

Fryg saw the question in his eyes and laughed harshly. "You think Smaug has slept this entire time? No…no he wakes every few years and feeds…I doubt it is out of hunger though...he always takes the best of us. It's like he knows who to take that will make us suffer most." Her hands had formed into tight fists, and there was pure hatred written across her face. "If I could find a way into that mountain and kill the beast myself I would, and I would take great pleasure in it. I'd poison my own flesh and offer myself to him if that would bring an end to Smaug."

A heavy silence fell over them as they sat in the darkness and stared at the mountain where the dragon slept.

"What was her name?"

"Freja. She was a year younger. We were inseparable. Tilda was barely three when it happened. By the time Bard returned, Smaug had returned to the mountain. We have not seen him since." She could not keep the quivering out of her voice. She never could when speaking of Freja. "I have not…spoken of her in…years…we don't talk about it…no one ever talks about who Smaug's taken…I think of her every day…and Sigrid looks just like her now…" Fryg wiped at her eyes, fighting back the tears that had come unbidden.

The thought of losing a younger sibling struck a chord deep within him. His mind immediately shifted to Kili and the foul wound. "My younger brother is with us. He was wounded on our journey here, and I fear it is not healing. He grows weaker every day, but he keeps denying it. I don't know what to do. I promised our mother I'd keep him safe. This is our first time away from the Blue Mountains, away from her. She did not want us to go, but I insisted. I told her it was our birthright, our destiny to reclaim Erebor alongside our uncle. I fear I have failed her and that this wound might...if he's hurt…not just from this wound but from anything. We've been nearly been killed so many times on this quest our luck must be wearing thin and it'll be my fault if he…" He could not bring himself to finish the thought. He did not want to hurt Kili's pride, but he did not want to lose his brother. "I've brought him along on such a dangerous journey. What sort of brother am I?"

Despite her best efforts, Fryg could not come up with words of comfort to offer. Instead, she wordlessly slipped her hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze. His hand felt rough against hers, but she liked the way it felt. At last, she found her voice. "I am certain, that if your brother shares any of your feelings about this quest, you could not have stopped him from coming. You can only protect the people you love so much…sometimes…it's not enough…but sometimes it is, Fili. Don't lose faith just yet."

He held her hand in his, running his thumb along her palm. Fili would not have thought such a small gesture could bring such great comfort, but it did to the both of them.

"So your uncle is Thorin, if I understood you correctly. Does that make you a prince?"

"We have to reclaim the mountain first."

"I will wait until then before using the appropriate titles."

He chuckled, "you could start now if you like."

"Fili, Prince Under the Mountain, Future King Under the Mountain. It does have a nice ring to it, your highness. Or is it your underness?"

"You find yourself to be very clever, don't you?"

"I have my moments."

"But you're right, it does sound nice."

"I think you'll be a good king."

"Why?" He looked away from the mountain and back at her. It was clear he doubted her claim.

She met his gaze so he could see her sincerity. "You care so strongly about your people and you are not yet their king. You have kind eyes, laugh lines, and strong hands. All good signs of someone fit to lord over others. On the night before a day that will change everything, you seek out a place to think instead of a place to drink." Fryg squeezed his hand again. "And, it would seem, that among your people you are still considered young. So you still have time to learn the things you do not yet know."

"Are you this kind to everyone? Or have you just decided to take pity on me?"

"I suppose I've taken a fancy to you and that might make me kinder than usual."

"It's the nose." He tapped it again, mocking himself for his earlier ramblings.

"Most certainly the nose. And the beard. There aren't enough good beards in Laketown."

Fili laughed loudly at that, stroking his beard with his free hand. "It is quite nice, and softer than you'd think." He brought her captive hand to his beard and playfully rubbed his chin against her fingers.

Fryg near giggled at the beard caress and did not pull away. Instead, she wiggled her free hand of his in order to better play with his beard and mustache braids. "I'm sure the maidens of Blue Mountain are missing your beard and dream of it every night until your return."

"Eh…" He chuckled nervously.

"No fair dwarf maiden waiting for you back at home?" She returned her hands to her lap, in case the answer was yes. It would hardly be appropriate to be playing with the beard of someone promised to another.

"Only my mother," Fili responded without much thought then pursed his lips at how that sounded. "By choice."

"Of course."

"I mean it."

"I believe you!" However, Fryg chuckled as she spoke. "Don't pout."

"I'm not pouting. Dwarves do not pout."

"Of course."

"Stop that."

"Stop what, dear prince?"

"You know what, dear lady of Laketown."

"Only if you answer my question about dwarves."

"Ask me anything."

"Do dwarf women really have beards?"

Fili snorted, "that was a lie spread by the Elves. Our women are very beautiful and do not have beards. Some may have a few hairs on their chins, but not full beards."

"Ah, that would be something the elves would do. Very high and mighty that bunch. Good for business, but not very personable."

"They do make a nice barrel."

Almost at the same time, they both broke out into a light laughter that turned into something breathless and heartfelt. They laughed at the jokes and the banter. They laughed because of their situation. They laughed because at times like these, sometimes that was the only thing to do.

Their conversation carried on to other trivial things and faraway places. They spoke of other fears and other joys. They shared stories of their childhoods and of their siblings. Fryg did not cry this time when speaking of Freja for she spoke of better times. Fili spoke of his mother and the Blue Mountains. They spoke of Erebor and of Dale. They spoke of silly things that seemed to hardly matter, like favorite colors and favorite legends. They argued over the proper tune to a mutually enjoyed song, even go so far as singing to prove their respective points. It was mutually decided that Fili was the better singer, but that Fryg was not entirely tone deaf. In truth, there was not much of which they did not speak. All the while, Fili tried his best to bring out her laughter. It was a most pleasant sound to his ears.

After another laughing fit, Fryg offered him a truly grateful smile. There was sadness in the smile but only because she thought of how few times she'd felt this at peace. "It feels good to laugh. I have not in a long time," Fryg commented, still slightly breathless from laughter.

"You should spend more time with dwarves then."

"I would not mind that assuming we survive tomorrow."

"Yes...tomorrow…it is fast approaching."

"It would seem so. You need rest. I'm sorry to have kept you so late." She scooted back from the edge of the dock and slowly stood.

Fili followed suit, pushing himself up to stand and warily eyeing the edge before turning back to Fryg. "Don't apologize. If I'd known coming here would win me your company, I would have left the celebration much earlier and stayed just as late. In truth, I don't want to leave at all."

She smiled shyly at him, still slightly unsure of what to make of his genuine affection rather than the innuendos. Words formed but none were spoken. The smile faded into a more serious look, a look of longing and apprehension. "Then don't. It is a long walk, and we are tired, my home is right here. Tomorrow we might all die a fiery death. If tonight is our last night, I'd like to spend it with you. Perhaps you think I'm crazy or a loose woman, neither of those things are true, and I know you were a stranger at the beginning of this night but you do not feel so strange to me now –"

Fryg could have continued on with her ramblings if not for the fact Fili silenced her by preoccupying her lips with his. Fortunately for him, Fryg was only a few inches taller so it was not a challenging feat to accomplish. The kiss deepened as they lost themselves in each other. As the kiss turned into a nuzzle, Fili spoke with words what he'd already expressed with actions, "you do not feel so strange to me now either. If this is our last night or even if it is not, I would like to spend it with you."

Nothing else was spoken then as Fryg led him into her home. Tomorrow would bring fire, but tonight would bring flames of another sort. Stronger, perhaps, than even dragon fire.


	2. Durin's Morning

**So this chapter was kind of a pain to write – literally and figuratively. I apologize for any typos. I think I caught them all, but I wrote most of this one handed for reasons I'll explain at the end (have to keep you interested, neh? But that's the literal pain.) Figuratively, because I don't know, it's not very action packed, and the next chapters will be so I'm more excited for those, but this was necessary to gap some bridges. I guess this is one of those 'character building' chapters. Let's call it that…enjoy!**

A thrush's song woke Fili from his sleep. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the simple pleasure of experiencing a peaceful moment. Fryg's head rested on his chest, her body curled against his in a tangle of sheets. Careful not to wake her, he wrapped his arms around Fryg. It would soon be time to rejoin his kinsfolk, but he had no desire to leave her. With great reluctance, he opened his eyes to acknowledge the day. Fortunately, the morning had just dawned. There was still time before his absence became an issue. There would be questions, but he'd think of something convincing to answer them with that didn't involve Bard's sister-by-law. Fili was not ashamed, far from it, but he did not want to risk her reputation.

Shame was the last thing on his mind. There were other troubling feelings, but not shame. Last night had not been a product of lust or desperation. However, he did not know what to call it. All Fili knew was that he wanted to keep her in his arms for as long as possible. She belonged there. Fili did not know why for certain, but he did not care. Some things could not be explained.

Fili gently brushed away the strands of dark hair that had fallen across her face. She was far more beautiful to him with the morning light revealing her imperfections than when the moon had whitewashed them. He made a note to remember to ask where she'd gotten the long scar that ran just below her eye. Fryg's sort of beauty felt earthy to him, so unlike the ethereal beauty of the elves. Her struggles and elations were etched on her face with lines and markings, like a map of her life. He could study it for hours, if not longer. There was still so much to learn.

Fryg stirred, slipping away from whatever she was dreaming, and in a few moments more she woke to something far more pleasant than her dream. Grey eyes fluttered open sleepily and an equally sleepy smile formed on her lips. "Good morning…" Or at least that's what she tried to say through the yawn. He chuckled at her attempt, and Fryg felt the rumble of his laughter within his chest where her head still rest.

"Good morning to you as well," He murmured, running his fingers through her hair now that he didn't fear waking her up. It had seemed black in the night but now he could see it was a dark brown. However, her eyes were just as grey as they'd seemed when they'd first captured him on the dock.

The rhythmic beating of his heart threatened to lull her back to sleep, but she did not want to lose what time she had with him. So, with another yawn, she propped herself up on her elbow but kept the hand of the other arm on his chest where her fingers traced meaningless symbols. "Are you certain it is Durin's Day?"

"Quite certain," He confirmed while propping himself up as well so their foreheads touched, "But it is more like Durin's Morning at the moment."

"So you won't be missed until Durin's Early Afternoon?" She offered hopefully.

"More like Durin's Late Morning, but it is not yet late morning, so I am not yet missed," He spoke the words against her lips, teasing the both of them.

She pressed her lips to his just hard enough to prevent words from being spoken. The kiss remained gentle, neither going beyond a soft searching of the other, and yet both were left breathless when they finally parted. Foreheads still pressed together, neither dared to break the silence that followed their kiss. He cradled her face in his large hands, a thumb traced the scar he'd noticed while she slept.

"Where did you get this?"

"Freja gave it to me when we were children. It was an accident with one of our father's hunting spears. She cried harder than I did," Fryg almost laughed thinking of the incident. It hadn't been funny at the time, but they'd often joke about it after the fact. "It was a nasty wound, deep. I was lucky I didn't lose my eye. I had to spend the next week consoling her. She was convinced I hated her for it. Needless to say, we stopped playing with father's spears…for about a month or so. Mother was always livid whenever she caught us."

Fili couldn't help but chortle at the thought of Fryg and her sister getting caught by their mother playing with their father's spears. He thought of similar occurrences with his brother and mother. "You two must have been a handful." Fili released her face but only so that he could run his hands along her shoulders and arms, wanting to learn every groove and bend of her body. Upon deciding there was too much space between them, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled Fryg against his chest to cradle her. She fit perfectly in the crook of his arm with her head resting on his shoulder. All he needed to do was slightly turn his face to hers and there they found themselves forehead to forehead once more.

"We were, but mother expected it. She and her sister were much the same. Some of the stories…I'll save those for later though," Her voice warmed while speaking of her family.

"I can understand that entirely," Fili commented, clearly amused. "It's surprising the Blue Mountains still stand with Kili and I growing up there." He wasn't entirely exaggerating. They'd gotten away with more than they should have due to their nobility. Unless, of course, Thorin or Dis was the one that caught them misbehaving. Then that was another story entirely.

Fili had not yet thought of his brother this morning until that moment. A sudden wave of guilt crashed over him. Anything could have happened during the night, what if Kili had worsened? The others wouldn't have known where to find him. Panic flooded his mind as all the possible, terrible scenarios played out in his head.

"Fili?"

Fryg's concerned inquiry snapped him back to reality. He had not realized his expression had darkened, or that his grip on her had loosened. "I have to go. I have to make sure that Kili's alright…" Fili let her go completely as she moved herself away from him so he could get off the bed. He searched for his various articles of clothing in a hurry. His mind took him far away from Fryg's home and into far darker places. "I shouldn't have stayed last night. I should have gone back to make sure nothing happened to him. What was I thinking? Kili could be dying and what do I do? I shouldn't have left him. This was a mistake…such a mistake…" His dark mutterings were the product of anxious guilt and meant only as self-inflected reprimand. If anything had happened to his little brother, he'd never forgive himself. He'd never left Kili's side for long. In truth, Fili could not think of an instance they'd spent more than a few hours apart.

By the time Fili realized he'd spoken aloud, he was nearly completely dressed. His back was to Fryg, but he could hear her shuffling behind him. "Fryg…I didn't mean…" He hadn't meant to make it sound like she was the mistake. He hadn't meant to say those things at all. They had just slipped out in his angst.

"It's alright, Fili," Her voice sounded distant even though she could only be a few feet away from him. "I understand."

He found the courage to turn to face her, endless apologies in his eyes that he couldn't find the right words to speak. She'd dressed herself and braided her hair in a single thick plait. The shawl was across her shoulders again, pulled tightly as if she meant it to be amour against his misspoken utterances. Her expression was purposefully blank, and she did not meet his pleading gaze. He'd hurt her with his carelessness. Worse, he didn't know how to fix it. Not even against the hoards of orcs or army of goblins had Fili felt this helpless.

They finished dressing in heavy silence. Every so often, Fili would try to say something or at least catch her eye, but she'd always look away. He wanted to say something, anything, to make this right, but nothing seemed good enough. As the door to her home closed behind them, Fili knew his opportunity had passed. Outside the privacy of her home, he didn't dare act intimately familiar.

Despite no one seeing them leave, the sight of them walking from the direction of her home together this early in the day was enough to elicit curious glances and hushed whispers. Fryg ignored them with a calm reserve that only endeared her more to Fili. Meanwhile, he wanted to yell at them, to do something to silence them but kept calm for her sake. Acting hotheaded would only fuel their gossip.

It really was a long walk back to the main hall or perhaps it just seemed that way since they walked in silence. When they reached the building, Fili subtly scouted the area for anyone within earshot. Finding no one, he turned to speak but before he could say anything Fryg held up a hand to silence him.

"Today will either end in fire or it will end with you as a prince. Neither allow for us to be anything more than what we are now."

"And what are we now, Fryg?"

"Nothing of consequence."

He had not realized the depths of his feelings for her until she called them nothing. What she said was a lie. Fili might not know what they were or exactly what this feeling was but it absolutely was something. "No…" His tone was surprisingly adamant.

"Fili, can you see a future for us? For a Prince Under the Mountain and a widow of an impoverished town? And when I grow old and you are still in your prime? I would not subject you to the pain of watching me age then die while you still had so many years left to be a widower. It would not be fair to either of us."

Oh how Fili tried to answer her question about a future, but he knew she was right. He did not want she said to be true, but he could find no real rebuttal. A dwarf marrying a human would be as ridiculous as a dwarf marrying an elf. Perhaps it would not be so impossible if not for the social status barriers. However, those barriers were there, and he saw no feasible way to remove them. There truly was no future for them. It had only been one night. He should not have wanted a future. It made no sense to want one. Yet, by the ache of his heart he knew that secret desire had grown while he'd held her in his arms.

"Thank you for showing me back to the main hall." Those were no the words he wished to speak, but they were the only ones he could bring himself to say.

"I will pray to the Valar for you and yours, especially your brother," She forced the words although they were not untrue. Fryg would pray with all the strength of her soul. Grey eyes mourned for the decision that had been made, but the rest of her expression remained stoic. It was better this way for the both of them.

With nothing else to say, Fryg turned her back to him as she started the lonely walk home. He watched her go wanting so badly to run after her. His youthful desire to ignore the complications of their union battled with his wiser understanding they could not be together. If he were more like Kili, he would have let the youthful desire win, but he was not his younger brother. He was Thorin's heir, and he would act as such even if doing so hurt worse than any physical wound. Although he did not go after her, Fili did not move from where he stood until Fryg was completely out of sight.

Upon entering the main hall, Fili was greeted by the few companions who'd already woken. One of which, much to his relief, was his brother.

"Where've you been all night?" Kili asked with a grin that just barely covered his weakening state.

"Well…" Time for a lie. "I uh…fell asleep in someone's boat…" He coughed, acting embarrassed at his supposed drunken state.

"Was it a pretty someone's boat, brother?" Kili smirked at him good-naturedly. He absentmindedly rubbed at his leg. No one noticed but Fili and Thorin. Their uncle stood at the window, staring out as if looking beyond Laketown into a distant future, clearly contemplating the day that was to come. However, he glanced over at his nephews when Kili asked the question.

Fili flushed, stumbling over his tongue and wishing he'd thought of a different lie to tell. It clearly hadn't been good enough.

"It was kind of her to walk you back, Fili," Thorin's tone was enough to silence even Kili. The two made eye contact, and Fili looked away first. Somehow, his uncle knew what had happened between him and Fryg.

"Yes, it was kind of her," Fili agreed, trying hard to keep his voice steady.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Thorin strode over to stand before his nephew. "I hope sleeping in a boat hasn't left you unready for today," There was a heavy weight to his words and even heavier implication.

"No, I'm more than ready," He nodded his head in agreement with himself.

"Good…" Thorin clapped his nephew on the shoulder before walking off to speak with Dwalin.

Fili visibly relaxed, and the murmur of separate conversations resumed. He took a seat next to his brother, who offered him a slice of bread and cheese. Despite not feeling hungry, Fili picked at the food absentmindedly. "How's your leg, Kili?"

"It's fine."

"You're lying," Fili outright called Kili out on it for the first time. The morning had worn him out. He wasn't in the mood for games.

"So are you."

He should have seen that coming, and instead of responding, Fili barbarically tore off a chunk of the bread. Chewing the mouthful gave him an excuse for the silence but only for so long. "She's…nothing of consequence…" He hated himself for repeating her words, but perhaps if he spoke them aloud, he'd eventually come to believe it.

"You're a terrible liar."

"It was just one night."

"It's just a flesh wound."

They'd reached a stalemate, and Fili had finished his bread. He looked up from his empty hands and saw that Thorin had left with Dwalin for some reason or another. No one else was paying them any attention, nursing a mixture of hangovers and well-warranted fears.

"Her name's Fryg, and yes, she is a very pretty someone. She's more than that but doesn't think we could be more than what we are now – which is nothing of consequence. Those are her words, not mine, but she's probably right," He spoke softly so only his brother could hear. "So there you have it."

Kili remained quiet for once, mulling over his brother's confession. "It's not healing, but I swear to you, after we've reclaimed Erebor, I'll have it looked at properly. Please, brother, we've come so far. We've dreamt of this day since we were children. I have to be there when we find the door," He'd grabbed his brother's arm in a pleading manner.

It pained Fili to see the sheer desperation in his brother's eyes. He could not deny him this. "Fine, but you'll stay back if there's trouble and won't risk yourself further."

"Deal," Kili near chirped happily, then fought to hide a wince as he'd moved his leg unintentionally. He offered his older brother a hand to shake to seal the deal, but Fili only ruffled the younger dwarves hair. "Hey now…stop that…" Kili swatted at his brother's hand playfully.

Despite the lightheartedness of the moment, Fili's stomach still remained in a tight knot of anxiety. The balance between what he had to lose and what he had to gain today seemed awfully equal. He could not help but wonder which why the scale tipped. Perhaps, it would be melted down in a dragon's wrath. It seemed, no matter the outcome of the day, something would be lost to him.

**Did you just skim to the bottom to see why I wrote it one handed? Fair enough. I hate surprises too. So, I was skiing and not paying attention, which is a terrible thing to do, therefore ending up taking a nasty fall. 'Whump' noise included. Anyway. I jammed my hand somehow with my ski-pole and haven't had full use of my thumb (therefore entire left hand because as it turns out thumbs are important) until about a day or so ago (so a full week since the fall). However! A funny happened. Hopefully it'll make up for the emo-angst in the chapter (which you should go read if you skipped it, seriously, go read it, this'll still be down here when you get done). As I'm lying on the snow in a semi-daze (hit my noggin too, snow is not nearly as soft as one would think), my sister skis over and stands over me. She then asks how many fingers she's holding up, seemingly to gauge the state of dizziness. However, as I focus on her, I realize she's grinning all cheekily. Why? Because she's wearing mittens. Anyway, hopefully the next chapter will be up this weekend. I'm probably going to have to modify the story description at some point…eventually…hope everyone had a lovely near years! **


	3. When Not If

**Warning: this chapter only contains mentions of Fíli, not actual Fíli-ness. That is why I posted both chapters at the same time! So, dear reader, if you'd like to skip to the next chapter, that's actually quite fine. This was meant to only be a brief tangent in the following chapter but ended up expanding into Bard/Fryg/Freja background. I'm also playing with the prophecy a bit and ultimately the Valar. However! That isn't essential to the main story plot. So! Enjoy the fluff (although it's not very fluffy) or go right along to the FílixKíli brotherly brotime in the next chapter. **

Bard never knocked. He let himself in without so much as a greeting and waited for Fryg to acknowledge his presence. She took her sweet time, organizing pointless things and making a big point of not noticing him. They'd played this game before, but it didn't normally last this long. There could only be one reason why he'd be here this early. If it had something to do with the children, he'd already have spoken. No, she knew this was about last night. Rumors traveled fast in Laketown.

"You look as if you're going somewhere," Bard finally broke the silence, commenting on the pack she busied herself preparing. Instead of the Common Speech, he spoke in Dalish, the old language of Dale now mostly forgotten among the younger generation of Laketown. It was one of the Northmen's languages, similar to the Rohirric of the Rohirrim but with a flavor all its own. While it had been Fryg and Freja's first language, Bard had learned it later in life but was fluent by this point. Having the sisters constantly chattering in front of him without understanding a word had been a large motivation to learn quickly. In their adulthood, they'd made a point of speaking it when in private to keep the tradition alive.

"Berry picking," She responded likewise in Dalish.

"Berry picking…what sort? I thought it wasn't the season for any edible ones," He observed lightly.

"The sort with long ears that hop."

"Strange berries, those sort."

"Perhaps but they're easy to carry and easy enough to prepare. Far more filling than other sorts as well."

When the odd conversation ended, a silence fell over them. Long and drawn out, Fryg could bear it no more. "Just say it, Bard," She whispered a near growl at him. Fryg could feel his disproval like the heat of a fire.

"What were you thinking?" He kept his voice low, but that's how she knew he was truly upset.

Fryg shook her head, trying to smooth a strand of hair that had gotten loose. "I wasn't. It was a moment of weakness, lust, desperation – a combination of all three," She spoke forcefully but didn't make eye contact. One hand gently gripped her shoulder while the other tilted up her chin so she couldn't look away.

"Did he hurt you?" The edge of his voice was as sharp as a blade, but it did not nearly frighten her as much as the livid glint in his eyes. Bard was not a violent man, but in that moment, Fryg believed he could become one.

At first, all she could do was shake her head. When she found her voice, it shook, "no, no he didn't hurt me. It wasn't like that at all. We spoke on the dock for most of the night, and I invited him in. I pursued him. He's kind and gentle…and funny…I haven't laughed so much since…you know when…please, believe me, Fíli is…" Fíli was so many things. She didn't want to think about it.

Bard furrowed his brow at her apparent fear and let his hand slip to her free shoulder before pulling her into a brotherly embrace. "I'm sorry, Fryg…didn't meant to frighten you…just these dwarves…and if one of them hurt you…" Bard didn't need to finish the sentence for Fryg to know how it would end. She hugged him back tightly, finding comfort in his presence now rather than being irritated by it.

Ever since the beginning, when their father had taken in the orphaned Bard, the sisters' relationships with their father's ward had been entirely different. Freja and Bard had always adored each other. It had been clear as day. Fryg, however, had disliked her father's attention drawn elsewhere. It had been far worse than the addition of a baby sibling. Bard had been older, demoting Fryg to the position of middle child, and worse, a son that Fryg's mother had never been able to give to their father. The childish jealousy she felt had been overwhelming, but when it subsided, the two might as well have been truly siblings.

"Which one is Fíli?"

"Why does it matter? It was just one night. I won't be seeing him again."

"Oh, it matters to me."

Fryg tried to free herself by wiggling out of the hug, but he only tightened his grip.

"Bard," A warning tone.

"Fryg," A playfully serious tone.

She was trapped. She hated this game too. It hadn't been so difficult to win when he'd been smaller, but that was not the case these days.

"The young blonde one. Handsome. Long nose. Would you like me to describe other things?"

Bard quickly let go to avoid hearing those other descriptions, "the dark young one's taller."

"That's not what matters," She fixed her hair once more and huffed. Some things never change, least of all maturity levels between siblings. "Let's talk about you now. You put on quite a show yesterday."

"You of all people should take the prophecy seriously…" His joking mood deteriorated in less than a moment, and he took a seat at one of her kitchen chairs. "Those dwarves are going to be the end of us all. They'll wake the dragon, Fryg. There will be no gold. Those people are fools."

"Those people, our friends, are desperate, Bard. Can you blame them?"

"Yes, beyond just the idiocy of waking Smaug, they should know better than to trust a dwarf. Do you really think Thorin Oakenshield means to keep his promise? If, and that is a big if, they manage to kill Smaug, do you really think they'll share their gold with us?"

Fryg put her hands on her hips in defiance of his accusation, "I think we should not judge them so quickly."

There were quite a few things Bard wanted to say to that statement, but he knew better. Freja had been the even-tempered one of the sisters. Fryg had not inherited that trait and, although little, her fists always seemed to meet their mark with stinging accuracy. He'd learned that well enough growing up.

"I can't lose anyone else, Fryg. I can't. I don't care about the gold. I care about what happens if they wake the dragon. What will happen to the town? To my children? To you? All will be lost…"

"When, Bard, it's not if. It's when," She whispered softly with all the solemnity of a tomb.

He stared at her then, the fear that clutched at his heart showed in his eyes. "When…" It was the only word he managed to murmur. This was it then. This was the end. "…what can we do? The others won't leave. They won't believe us until it's too late."

She smiled sadly at Bard, even in this dark moment he thought of their fellow townspeople. Although she'd never had those feelings for him, she knew why Freja had felt them. "We prepare. You, by spending the day with your children, and me by taking care of a few things here and there."

"Berry picking."

"Yes, berry picking, but first, have you eaten anything yet?" She switched the subject as if they'd previously been talking about the weather and not the impending destruction of their home.

Slightly taken aback by the sudden flow of conversation, Bard took a few moments to answer. "No, I had left before eating and was going to go back when I heard about you and Fíli."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it's turned into something even more exciting by now."

"I'd imagine. If Fulla's sunk her teeth into it, you've probably slept with at least half of them."

"At the same time or one by one?" Fryg asked over her shoulder while assembling a modest breakfast for the two of them.

Bard took the small plate she offered him, "I guess that'll depend on who you ask by the afternoon."

Fryg took a seat opposite him and shook her head with a sigh, "I'm terribly sorry for causing such a scandal."

"No you're not," He said through a mouthful of smoked fish and bread.

She made a face of revulsion, "chew and swallow before speaking, Bard, really now, that's disgusting."

In response, he only chewed more open mouthed, "better?" A piece of bread fell out, and he did actually look slightly grossed out by his own behavior at that point.

"And you think the dwarves are uncivilized."

"Did you eat a meal with this Fíli?"

"No, but I'm sure he chews with his mouth closed and doesn't speak with it full."

"Perhaps that's why they keep their beards so long, for storing leftovers."

"That's just rude. Give them a chance, Bard."

"What for? You said yourself the dragon will wake."

"I did, but I did not say it would live."

"And then they'll keep their gold and nothing will change for us. We've already been over this."

"I think they'll keep their promise."

"Because one of their company appears to have some redeeming qualities you somehow think this will impact Thorin's decision."

"Fíli is Thorin's nephew so I should think so. Perhaps the uncle is not so different from the nephew."

Bard arched a brow at Fryg in disbelief. "You were intimate with Thorin's nephew." It wasn't a question, just a reaffirmation of the facts. "You had relations with Dwarf nobility." He looked like he might just laugh. It had been so long, Fryg would not mind if it were at her expense. However, that didn't keep her from responding tartly.

"I don't see why that's funny."

"It's not funny, just…if you had to sleep with one, I suppose you might as well sleep with the would be King's nephew."

"And heir."

"So the would be Prince."

"It is a little ridiculous I suppose…"

"A little."

"That's not why, so you know."

"I know, Fryg, but perhaps Fíli will hold his uncle to his word for your sake if not for the town's sake."

"We'll see. I do not think Fíli will be doing anything for my sake, however. We parted with little affection."

"On your account or his?"

"Mine. I am not so foolish to think anything long lasting could come of last night."

"You care for him."

"I won't deny it. Strange and sudden as it may be, yes, I do care for him."

"Life is strange and sudden sometimes."

"So it is."

"Will you be there to see them off?"

"No…" She cleared her throat of the emotions that had caused a lump, "I have no wish to watch him sail off to that monster's lair."

He nodded his head in silent understanding. There was something bothering him; however, Bard did not know how to bring it up. Still, there never would be a good time to ask such a thing. "Fryg…if you know that they will wake Smaug...how did you not know about…about that day…about Freja?"

His question was inevitable. She'd known it would come one day, but he could have picked a better time to ask. Her emotions were raw, but not answering was not an option. He had the right to know. Bard had been so patient with them – never asking questions about their secrets. "I don't get to choose. I only know what I know, and it feels at both so little and so much…" Fryg explained softly, using similar words her mother had when she and Freja had been children.

"How do you know?"

"I have always known, just as my mother and aunt always knew, and their mothers and their aunts knew and the prophetess, who you so kindly reminded me of earlier, knew…and just as Freja knew…" She did not include his daughters. They would bear the burden of their kin as well, but she did not want to trouble Bard further. He was aware, of course, but that did not mean they had to discuss it openly. Her answer was not entirely the truth, but it was close enough for now.

"Do you think she knew about…"

"I try not to…but…perhaps…sometimes I think she knew…she'd acted so strange that morning…" Fryg furrowed her brow, drifting back in her memories to that day. In hindsight, Freja had been acting so odd. She'd made Fryg promise to look after her family if anything had ever happened to her. It hadn't made much sense at the time, but Freja had seemed so bothered. Maybe it had only been coincidence, or maybe it hadn't, but there was no way to know now.

"Why would she…"

"That is the one thing we never know - the why for anything. It is better not to linger on those questions, hard as that may be."

He stared at his hands resting on the table as if the answers to all his questions might appear on them any moment. "It is impossible not to linger."

"I know," She reached out across the table to interlock their fingers in a loose embrace of their hands. The action unintentionally made her think of Fíli's strong hands, the way they'd felt against hers. The price she'd pay to hold them again, to simply feel them against her skin or tangled in her hair as they had been not so long ago. Now, those hands were preparing to go to war against an impossible foe. Those hands would be clinging to weapons when they should be put to better use. Those hands might burn within the mountain. A visible shudder went through her body at those unwanted thoughts, and a sharp inhale resulted from the forceful silencing of a sudden rise in her throat that threatened to turn into a sob.

"Are you alright?"

Fryg barked a short laugh that had traces of the suppressed sob. She felt Bard's hands tighten around hers. Who would have thought such a simple question could have such an outcome? Fryg had not thought so at the beginning of the previous night. At first, words were lost to her, so Fryg could only shake her head. "No…no, I'm not alright. I'm scared, Bard. I'm so scared and all we can do is wait."

His face softened at the revelation of her fear. "I'm scared too, Fryg, but we'll be okay. Even if we lose the town, we, this family, will be okay. I made a mistake for which I can never forgive myself, but I will not make another of that nature. I promise I'll keep us safe."

"Her death wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't yours either."

This was not the first time those words had been spoken to the other, and it would not be the last, but it was never believed by either party.

"Do you still have the arrow?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She could not bring herself to speak of the other causes of her fear. Bard probably had a notion, but spared her the discomfort of confronting her. It would not be so hard for him to guess that Fryg feared for Fíli's safety as well as her feelings for him. They startled her in their intensity and impossible nature.

It was Bard's turn to shift the conversation as he picked up their plates and moved them to the modest kitchen's washbasin. "When will you be back from berry picking?"

"When I need to be," She responded, still lounging on her chair for a moment before joining him at the kitchen window.

"So cryptic."

"Unwise is the man who questions the Grey-Eyed women of Long Lake."

"That's not a real proverb."

"It should be."

He shook his head but didn't comment on her proverb. "It's time I go."

"I agree," She spoke with a hint of a jest. He feigned a look of hurt, but it lasted only a moment. Before leaving, Bard pulled her into a tight hug then swept out the door to spend time with his beloved children as he'd been told to do. After all, the newly founded saying did say it would be unwise to question the Grey-Eyed Women of Long Lake.


	4. Brotherly Advice and Education

**Confession time. This wasn't the chapter I'd set out to write. It was supposed to be the first part. Like Fryg/Bard's chapter was supposed to be a brief intro to this chapter. We'll get to where I'm trying to go eventually. Have some brotherfluff in the meantime. Also, thank you to all the lovely readers who've faved and/or followed. Although I'd love to hear your opinion about it via reviews or even pms, your silent lurking is just as appreciated. Shoutout to HidingintheShadow, ZabuzasGirl, and Trance Gemini (if you've been waiting for some sign that you should make an actual account, this is it) because repeat reviewers make for a happy writer. **

It was obvious to Fíli that Kíli's health had deteriorated further as the morning progressed. Wordlessly, the older brother helped his brother dress in the borrowed armor away from the other companions. Kíli had struggled at first, refusing the help, but he had not the strength to fend off his concerned brother. At least Fíli had moved them away from the group so Kíli's weakness would not be exposed. The older brother hoped he would not regret this decision, but his gut screamed at him that he would in the near future. Fíli understood Kíli's desire completely, but he was torn by his concern for Kíli's health. He did not know if it would be the better thing to take him or leave him. What would be the better brotherly decision? In the end, Fíli knew he could not enter the halls of Erebor without Kíli by his side. They would see it together or not at all.

"Remember your promise, Kíli, you stay in the back and out of trouble," Fíli grumbled while fixing a strap of a shoulder piece.

Kíli nodded weakly, "I'll do as I'm told. Just this once though, so you ought not get used to it." Even in this state, he still managed to flash a cheeky grin. Kíli would be Kíli, even when potentially dying.

Fíli was somewhat comforted by the fact his brother still had his humor about him. If Kíli didn't have the spirit to make a joke, then he didn't have much spirit left. "Good, I'll enjoy it while I can, little brother."

"Little? I prefer younger. I'm still the taller brother, brother," He cracked another grin, even though pain lurked in his expression.

Fíli just rolled his eyes at the technicality while adjusting his own armor. It fit well enough, but it wasn't as well made as Dwarf craftsmanship. Although, they were lucky the Laketown people had any at all that was somewhat decent. However, he tried not to think of the futility of it. What armor could protect against a dragon's fire? For that matter, what weapon could slay a dragon? They had failed when their numbers had been great. How could they succeed now? Dain had not joined them in this quest. Would he really join them later even if Thorin had the Arkenstone? Would the other Dwarf lords rally against a dragon for the sake of Durin's Folk? Could they even win?

Doubt crept into his heart, and Fíli wondered for the first time if perhaps Thorin was wrong. He did not like the feeling, but it would not go away. His thoughts turned to the consequences of waking the dragon. He thought of Kíli, and unbidden, he thought of Fryg. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he would be able to keep Kíli from facing the wrath of the dragon, but how would he protect Fryg? Without doubt, Smaug would attack Laketown. Would she die for his quest? Would she burn for him? So lost in thought, Fíli had not caught Kíli's question.

"What was that?"

"Distracted by thoughts of your lady friend?"

"Yes…I was," Fíli answered truthfully, but he did not care to share what those thoughts were in detail. His brother would not understand, and truthfully, Fíli did not want him too. They were too dark for his younger brother. Fíli would not want Kíli to be burdened by his worries.

"So could she tell?"

"Tell what?" Fíli did not like where Kíli was going with that question.

"That it was your first time."

Fíli's cheeks burned bright red, and he openly glared at his brother after furtively glancing around to make sure no one else had heard. "That is highly inappropriate, Kíli," He used his scolding voice, saved only for the most embarrassing of moments.

"Easy, brother, I meant no offense. I was just curious," His sly grin caused Fíli's blush to deepen.

Fíli rubbed at his beard, and cleared his throat before answering quietly, "…she seemed…pleased…so…I…would assume not? I don't know…" He felt flustered despite knowing Kíli was only doing this to distract him from his brother's health.

"So you did sleep with her!" He seemed slightly shocked yet happily so.

"Wha-ugh…" He'd walked into that trap so blindly. "Yes, yes I did."

"How was it?"

"What? No, I'm not telling you about that…"

"But you're my older brother and you're supposed to educate me about these sorts of things. How else am I supposed to learn about women and their mysteries?" He tried to feign an innocent look, but it failed miserably. However, there was an element of truth to his words. Their father had died when they were young, and Thorin was not good about that sort of education. Although they loved their mother, neither party had ever brought up the subject.

There had been a few opportunities, but the brothers hadn't been all too interested in women while in the Blue Mountains. Oh, of course, Kíli flirted whenever there was a chance, but it had never been serious. Fíli was less forward. Admittedly, his younger brother attracted more attention, but that was all right by him. Finding someone hadn't been all that important. They were still young after all, and there just weren't that many options available given the uneven gender populations.

"Fine. It was…" Fíli struggled to find a suitable description. "Physically, it was incredible, but that wasn't what made it so…that's not the hard part to describe…" This was impossible. Kíli just sat there staring expectantly at him. It reminded him of the first time he'd come home from a hunting trip with Thorin. Kíli had been deemed too young to go and the moment Fíli returned, he'd nearly tackled him, demanding all the details. That had been an easier experience to describe. "All I could think of was her. She was everything. All I could see or feel or hear was her…it was like the world shrank to just the two of us. There was nothing else, and I…after…the way she felt in my arms after…" He'd opened his arms, staring at the empty space as if he saw her there. "Do you remember the first time you ever held a bow? Not just playing around as children, but the first time you really held it, the first time it felt apart of you. It felt like that…just so complete…" His voice trailed off for fear that it would begin to shake. He should not have left her so quickly. He should have called out her name as she'd walked away. He should have kissed her one last time.

There was an unexpectedly long silence that followed. Fíli had expected his brother to start pestering him for more details about the physical nature of his evening, but nothing was asked. He did not mind the silence. It gave him time to compose himself. However, it couldn't last. Kíli could hold his tongue for only so long. "I can't wait to meet her once we deal with the oversized lizard with wings," Kíli chirped merrily, his tone an odd juxtaposition with his paling face. A fever had started to develop, but that wasn't going to dampen his mood.

Fíli's expression darkened at both Kíli wanting to meet Fryg and his disregard for Smaug. Sometimes even Fíli couldn't tell quite when Kíli was purposefully downplaying something or actually didn't think much of something. He hoped Kíli was taking Smaug seriously. "I told you, she doesn't think anything of us."

Kíli frowned and his genuine sadness for his brother shone through his illness, "she couldn't have meant it. How could she? I bet anything she's thinking about you right this moment."

"Even if she is, what would it matter? She said there's no future for us."

"And do you believe that?"

"Her reasoning made sense."

"Forget reason, brother! There's nothing reasonable about romance. You think too much," Kíli made his point by tapping his brother with a finger on the forehead. Fíli moved his head to end the assault on his forehead, but Kíli only proceeded to poke him in the cheek until the older brother grabbed hold of the younger's hand.

"Stop that."

"I'll stop when you stop being so negative. What's gotten into you?" He paused, "Or rather, who've you gotten into would be the better question." Kíli shrunk away slightly from his brother's steely glare. "No, not the better question, as I was saying…" And his demeanor changed from trickster to concerned brother in the blink of an eye. Kíli freed his hand from Fíli's in order to place it on an unarmored part of his brother's arm. "If you have feelings for her, and she has feelings for you, which she'd be mad not to, then there's a future for the two of you. If you can't see the path, that doesn't mean it's not there. It just means that you'll just have to be bold enough to make one. It won't be easy, but that doesn't mean it's not possible. Maybe she's your personal Erebor."

Fíli did not know how to respond to Kíli's speech. It always caught him off guard when Kíli revealed the deeper nature of his thoughts. "None of it makes any sense, Kíli. We just met. I could outlive her by over a hundred years. Thorin would never accept it. It just can't be done."

"Brother, we're about to enter a mountain through a secret door that we only have a few shreds of light to find which is guarded by a enormous dragon who exiled us and destroyed two great cities. If we can accomplish reclaiming this Erebor, you can find a way to be with your Erebor. Our entire lives have been based around attaining the impossible. Why stop after today? As for having just met her, well, maybe you've just gotten lucky and fate's letting you know she's for you without having to muck through all the awkwardness of courtship."

Speechless, Fíli stared at his brother with his jaw slightly slack. After the initial moment of shock, he tried to smooth his expression to not seem so astonished at his brother's levity about the situation. Perhaps, Kíli was growing up after all. They both were it would seem. Their mother would hardly recognize them at the end of this.

"I'm reckless, Fíli, but I'm not a fool," He grinned again, pleased with himself at having shocked his brother into silence. "I know the sort of danger we're facing. Admittedly, I did not know when we left how dangerous this would be, but I've since realized my mistake."

Despite all his concerns, Fíli managed a chortle at his brother's confession. "In truth, I had not realized either. I think mother may have been right in not wanting us to come. Or at least, I can understand her concerns."

"It's a strange thing to realize you're changing in the middle of the process."

"So you've become less reckless? Because I'm going to have to disagree."

"No, of course not, I just now realize how reckless I am! Mother was right. I really should apologize when we see her next."

The brothers chuckled together, both thinking of their mother's expression at Kíli apologizing for all his reckless behavior. The chuckle faded into a sad silence.

"I miss her, Fíli. Sometimes, when I first wake up in the morning, I forget for a moment we're not still with her, and then I remember how far away we are from each other."

"I miss her too, but just imagine how good it will be when we see her again."

"I hope it's sooner rather than later," Kíli murmured, his stone promise to his mother back in his hands. He was never without it. Fíli was mildly surprised that the engraving hadn't begun to wear given how frequently Kíli turned the talisman in his hand.

"It'll be soon enough, Kíli," Fíli wished he could make it a promise, but he did not like making promises he could not keep. However, he desperately wanted his words to be true. "We just have to reclaim Erebor first, and then the four of us can be together again. I'm sure Thorin's missing her too. He'll be happy for the reunion as well."

"Sounds easy enough," Kíli responded to his brother's attempt at cheering him up with a slight smile. "The only issue I see is having to wait for Thorin to ready himself."

"He does take forever."

"Worse than mother."

"He does have a lot of hair to manage."

"Is it just me or does it have more grey in it lately?"

"Definitely more grey in it as of late."

The two bantered on about their uncle lightheartedly in order to ignore the heaviness of the day that would follow. Their mother had said they were too young to go on this quest, and both knew she had been right at the time. However, the quest itself had aged them, and now they were not so young anymore. Fíli could not help but wonder who he and his brother would be at the end of this quest for he knew they would not be the same young dwarves who left the Blue Mountains. No, those were not even the dwarves who now stood beneath the shadow of the Lonely Mountain. Those carefree youths had not survived the journey, but the dwarves who'd taken their place…Fíli felt a flicker of hope that they might just survive this day. After all, Kíli was right. Difficulty did not determine possibility. With his brother at his side, perhaps it would be possible to gain both his Erebors.


	5. Closed Doors

**Sorry for the delay! But here's the next chapter. ****I did my best (with the help of some helpful youtube videos/wikis/reviews) to remember what exactly happens, but things are going to get more AU from now on, mostly because my memory isn't great, and it's been a bit since I saw the movie. Anyway, enjoy!**

It was time.

Thorin had called together the company. They stood in a half circle around their leader, waiting expectantly. His eyes flickered from face to face, offering each of them a silent acknowledgement of gratitude for having followed him this far. While other leaders might have tried to give a speech before embarking on this journey, Thorin offered none. There were no words that could do this moment justice.

"Erebor awaits," Were the only words Thorin spoke to his companions before turning on his heels and exiting the main hall.

Fíli lingered behind with his brother for most of the walk. He knew his place was at the front with his uncle, but he didn't want to risk Thorin noticing Kíli's state. Out in the sunlight, the sickly color of Kíli's face was even more obvious than it had been in the main hall. Óin had given them a knowing glance before, but the older dwarf hadn't commented aloud.

It seemed as if every man, woman and child of Laketown had come to see them off. Fíli's eyes flickered back and forth between his brother and the crowd. He very much doubted that Fryg would be among them, but his gaze searched for a glimpse of her anyway. As predicted, Fryg could not be found. A gentle nudge startled him, the disappointed look he hadn't been aware of wearing flittered off his face. Sick as he was, Kíli had noticed his brother's melancholic expression and knew the reason for it. Nothing could be said in the midst of the company, but the younger brother's sympathetic glance conveyed his message well enough.

While walking through the cheering crowds, Fíli had imagined this moment would have brought him more joy, but there was too much troubling him. Too much was at stake today for him to be naively excited. He jumped into the boat before his brother, but as he turned around to help Kíli on, Fíli saw his uncle put out an arm to stop the youngest of the company.

"Not you, we must travel with speed, and you will slow us down," Gruff but not unkind, Thorin had finally made his decision. He should have done this earlier, but it had not been an easy call to make. Now, at the final moment, Thorin knew he could not risk their quest or his nephew. Dís would never forgive him for putting her son in harms way when he was not at his best. Likewise, he would not forgive himself. Kíli was a danger both to himself and to the company. Thorin could simply not let him come along.

"What are you talking about? I'm coming with you. I'm going to be there when that door is open – when we first look at the hall's of our fathers," Kíli pleaded with a wavering voice, and it tugged at his uncle's heartstrings.

"No, Kíli, stay here. Rest, you'll join us when you're healed," It pained him to have to make this decision, but he had no choice. He knew neither Fíli nor Kíli would accept it easily, but he hoped they'd understand.

"I'm staying with the lad. My duty lies with the wounded," Óin announced, leaving the boat without waiting for Thorin's approval.

"Uncle, we grew up on tales of the mountain, tales you told us, you cannot take that away from him!" Fíli finally interjected, desperation clearly in his voice.

"Fíli –"

"I will carry him if I must!"

There was no doubt in Thorin's mind that Fíli would indeed carry his brother, but he could not let it happen. It would slow them down and add an unnecessary risk. "One day you will be king and you will understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf, even my own kin." Thorin remained impassive as the mountain he sought to reclaim. He was not an emotional dwarf. He did not know how to convey that there was more behind his decision than just retrieving their lost gold.

The seed of doubt that had been planted earlier that morning had bloomed. Fíli knew his uncle was right, but he could not accept it. Kíli had to come with them, if only to the entrance of the mountain. He did not have to fight. There were other options than just leaving him behind.

_"One day you will be king." _Fíli mulled over his uncle's words with a racing mind. It was an odd statement to hear and surprisingly hard to stomach. If being king meant he would have to disregard his brother, than Fíli was not sure he wanted to be king. Or, perhaps, Thorin did not understand what it meant to be king. How could either of them know what it meant to be king? They did not have the best example of it given to them by their forefathers. That thought was the more dangerous of thoughts to have, but it occurred to him then. Putting aside his own desires, he moved to join his brother but his uncle's arm stopped him in his tracks.

"Fíli, don't be a fool. You belong with the company," Thorin's voice had a warning tone to it. His heir belonged at his side when they entered the mountain.

The weight of his birthright rested on his shoulders. As Thorin's heir, he should be there to lead the company along side his uncle into their lost homeland. A prince should face the dangers that his people did, and Fíli did not disagree with the sentiment. However, he could not abandon his brother. Fulfilling the role of brother mattered more to him than fulfilling the role of Thorin's heir. The internal debate over what to do was over before it had even properly begun. If it made him a fool to be with his brother, than he would be the biggest of fools. He knew his place. He knew where he belonged.

"I belong with my brother," He growled before pushing aside his uncle's arm and striding over to Kíli without looking back.

Trumpets blared, and the crowd roared as the boat pushed off without them. Kíli groaned a complaint, but Fíli didn't hear it. He'd never defied his uncle in any way before and had always tried his best to please Thorin. Besides his brotherly duties, nothing had been more important to him than making Thorin proud. Although Fíli remembered his father, the memories were vague, and Thorin had filled the void after Víli's death. If this was to be the last time they spoke…Fíli forced himself to think of other things – such as what was to be done for Kíli.

"I'm sorry, brother…" Kíli whispered, as if he was choking back tears. "You should have gone…you should have…"

"Shhh…" Fíli soothed his brother, trying hard to fight the urge to hold him close, so he settled for draping an arm around him. Kíli's skin burned to the touch, and the glaze of his eyes couldn't be overlooked. Óin hovered over the injured dwarf, clearly concerned.

By then, Bofur had stumbled up to the dock. "Did you miss the boat as well?"

Fíli would have responded less kind than his normal good-humored self normally would except that at that moment Kíli pitched forward. "Kíli!" All thoughts of anyone but his brother vanished as he caught Kíli before the younger dwarf could hit the floor. Fíli held his brother up with the help of Óin. Although he seemed to be supporting himself somewhat, Kíli's head still hung like a ragdoll's. "Kíli, look at me! Look at me, brother," Fíli urged desperately. In response, Kíli tilted his head slightly up and glossy eyes flickered over to look at his brother. Beneath the glaze of a terrible fever, Fíli saw a great pain in his brother's eyes. "We're finding you help. You're going to be fine," He could feel the rise of his own cry that needed to be choked back. Kíli had to be okay. There wasn't another option.

Bofur and Fíli carried Kíli between them with Óin leading the way. Although happy to celebrate with them, none of the Laketown people wanted anything to do with them now or it seemed that way. Door after door, they were turned away, sometimes more apologetic than others. As Kíli worsened, Fíli grew frantic.

"What about that lady with the boat?" Bofur offered, trying to be helpful.

"I don't remember the way," Fíli murmured hastily. It was actually the truth. He'd thought of it before and had already tried finding his way back to Fryg's home, but Laketown was bigger than he'd thought. "I thought a few houses back was hers, but it wasn't."

"If the next house doesn't help, we'll ask," Óin concluded before asking, "do you at least remember her name?"

Fíli nodded his head, "Fryg. Her name's Fryg." He did not think it could be possible to need someone as much as he needed her now. More than just needing a place and healing supplies, he needed to hear her comforting voice tell him all would be well. His need for her frightened him, but the fear did not outweigh his desperation for her presence.

At the next house, the reception was much the same as all the others. A timid woman answered the door with a toddler clinging to her skirts. "I'm sorry, I can't help you…" She truly did sound sorry but kept her voice low as if not wanting the conversation to carry.

"Who is it, Gná?" A man's voice hollered from somewhere in the home.

The woman pursed her lips before responding, "it was just Fulla. She already left." She offered the dwarves an apologetic look while closing the door, but Fíli caught it with a hand.

"Can you at least tell me where Fryg lives? Please." Fíli asked in a low tone to match hers.

The woman's eyes widened slightly. "Fryg? You must be…" She glanced behind her furtively, "Fryg left early this morning. She does that sometimes. Bard lives straight down this row of homes, then take a right. Maybe he'll help. I'm sorry." Before they could ask anything else, Gná had already shut the door.

"He's getting worse, Fíli," Óin spoke softly, as to not rile up the already borderline frenzied prince. "We need somewhere so I can at least try to help him. I need supplies though."

"To Bard's then," Fíli conceded. Óin had suggested it earlier, but Fíli had balked at the idea. Bard had spoken out against their quest and his uncle. There was not even a remote chance that he would want to help them. Whatever feelings Bard had felt for them had certainly worsened by now given the events of last night. Still, it was their only option, and Fíli would beg on hands and knees if it would convince Bard to help them.

By the time they reached Bard's, Kíli had started to shake uncontrollably. Words no longer formed, just grunts and gasps of pain. Fíli's fists would have gone through the door if not for Bard answering it by the fifth knock. "Please, no one would help us. We had nowhere else to go," Fíli had never sounded so heartbreakingly pitiful before, in part because he knew that Bard might still refuse them despite their obvious need.

Every fiber of Bard's being demanded that he shut the door on the dwarves. They were about to burn his world down around him, and yet they still came to him for help. There wasn't enough gold in the world that would make him want to aid them in even the smallest of ways. However, before he could close the door, Bard made the mistake of actually looking at the dwarves long enough to recognize a specific one. Not for the first time in his life, he muttered a curse under his breathe on Fryg's account – even when absent the woman somehow managed to complicate his life. Whatever trouble helping them resulted in would pale in comparison to the trouble he'd be in if Fryg found out he'd turned them away. She could talk herself mute about how nothing would come of her dalliance with the blonde dwarf, but Bard knew better than to think she'd be indifferent if he refused to help.

"Come in…" He heard himself say through clenched teeth. Just because he'd help them didn't mean he'd pretend to be happy about it.

The long glance that Fili offered in thanks as they carried Kili through the doors caused him pause. He'd never seen a more grateful look in the entirety of his life. It was also the look of a man who he feared he was about to lose the most important thing in his life. Bard had not known he would lose Freja on the day that he did, but he could only imagine what Fili felt right now. Worse still, it reminded him of another look he'd seen before.

"Is he your kin?" Bard asked while closing the door.

"My younger brother."

Bard knew where he'd seen that look before then, and guilt for having almost refused them crept into his gut. "What else do you need? I don't have much but, whatever is here is yours to use," His willingness to help seemed strange to all parties involved, but life was strange, after all, he'd said so himself earlier in the day. If only Fryg would get back from 'berry picking' as she'd called it. She said she'd home when she needed to be, and that was right now.


	6. Birthright

**So I apologize for the wait, and the short length, and the generally lesser quality of this chapter. I've been studying for the LSAT (it's this coming weekend so after that no more studying!) and on top of that, my long-term relationship just ended last week so admittedly I've not been in a very inspired mood, but I wanted to put something up since it's been about two weeks now. Don't want ya'll thinking I've lost interest in this fic. However! I'll make it up to ya'll in the next chapter. Thanks for the continued interest, it's incredibly appreciated. **

A fog of grief had descended upon him as he laid his brother on the bed. Fíli couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His brother was dying, and he didn't know how to save him. If Óin could not, than all was lost. There could not be a life for him that did not include Kíli. It did not seem possible. How could he possibly go on without his brother? The love between them had never waivered, even during their early years when siblings often fought for silly reasons. Two sides of the same mischievous coin their mother had been fond of muttering whenever they got into trouble. A coin would not be a coin without two sides.

The debate over kingsfoil's proper use washed over him without real resonance. Even in better conditions, Fíli rarely concerned himself with plants or medical practices in general for that matter. Sure, he could wrap a decent bandage, but anything beyond that was out of his ability. Maybe if he'd listened to Óin's ramblings about the healing arts he would have known how serious Kíli's wounds were earlier.

"Hold on, Kíli, just hold on…" He whispered to his brother, too afraid to wonder if Kíli could hear him. A lifetime of memories flooded his mind, as if fate wanted to rub it in like salt on a wound that there might be no more memories to make after today. This sort of thing should only happen before death, but Fíli might as well have been dying. It felt as if he was with every gasp of pain his brother uttered. His own phantom fever coursed through his veins, heating his blood and making him shaky. It was a fever of adrenaline and fear, but those things were a poison all their own.

"_Mahal, please don't take him from me. Please, take my life, take anything else from me, just please not my Kíli,"_ Fíli prayed silently, leaning over Kíli and wiping the sweat off his brow. He'd never prayed so desperately in all his life. Óin said something to him, perhaps an attempt to comfort, but Fíli did not responded. He hadn't heard him, lost in his grief and guilt. The emotions made him deaf to all and any reassurance. It would only be a lie. The truth was as plain as day. This wound was more than just infected. It was rancid, poisoned – a death sentence.

And then the house shook.

Like an anchor being ripped out from the ocean bottom, Fíli's attention was ripped away from his own inner thoughts and back to the present. A cold knot formed in his gut. His uncle had woken the dragon. Fire and death would soon be upon them.

"Da?"

"It's coming from the mountain," Bard's son spoke, confirming Fíli's fears.

Fíli remembered then where he was, whose family had opened their home to him in his time of desperation. For the first time since having placed Kíli on the bed, Fíli looked away from his brother and to his hosts. This quest would take the life of his brother and now it would take the life of Fryg's family. No amount of gold was worth that cost. Fíli would rather roam the world for an eternity without a home or an ounce of gold if it meant his brother and Bard's family lived past this day. However, the Line of Durin had placed its bets, and they had lost.

With long strides for short legs, Fíli walked over to Bard in order to express his genuine concern for the man's family. "You should leave us, take your children and get out of here," It was a sincere plea, borderline desperate in it's need for Bard to leave. They had to be safe.

"And go where?" Bard gave a slight shake of his head, "there is no where to go."

Fíli's heart sank at Bard's words. His brother lay dying and now there was no hope for Fryg's family. He was torn between wishing she was here and grateful she was out of Laketown. However, even if she survived Smaug's attack, if her family did not, that could hardly be considered surviving.

"Are we going to die, Da?"

"No darling – " He couldn't finish his answer to Sigrid's question before his youngest interrupted.

"The dragon, it's going to kill us, just like it killed Ma," Tilda spoke with a solemnity no child should possess.

Hidden amongst common possessions, Bard pulled forth his birthright and held it for them to see. The Black Arrow gleamed with purpose, as did its bearers' eyes. "Not if I kill it first." His children swarmed him then, careful of the arrow, in a tight embrace. Fearful for their father and their fate but knowing this was the only way. "Girls, wait here for your aunt. She'll be home soon," He reluctantly detached himself from his children. "Bain, come with me." As to how to address the dwarves in his home, Bard was at a loss so he did nothing. The fate of Fíli's brother was out of his hands, and he'd done all that he could for them. Bard just prayed to whatever higher being that might be listening that Fryg got to his girls soon. For all his grumblings, he had faith she'd keep them safe even against impossible odds. With his son close behind, Lord Girion's descendant made for the ballista to prepare for Smaug's arrival.

Time seemed to slow after Bard left the modest home. Bofur had not returned with the kingsfoil. Kíli worsened. Óin muttered darkly to himself. Fíli held on tightly to his brother as if that somehow might keep him longer in the world of the living if only until the dragon reached Laketown.


End file.
